


Primal

by thebearking



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Gender-neutral Reader, Light Angst, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Rough Sex, Smut, Soulless Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 11:43:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12058296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebearking/pseuds/thebearking
Summary: This was not your Sam, but you were willing to settle.





	Primal

**Author's Note:**

> sooo i suddenly remembered i had this practically completed sam drabble from several months ago, so i decided to finally post it. it's the smuttiest thing i've written in a while. it's also very short, not even 500 words. i miss soulless sam lol. i plan on posting a few more non-marvel fics but i promise we'll get back to our regularly scheduled marvel content very soon :) gender-neutral reader here.

For a moment, you worried the bed frame might collapse with how hard Sam was thrusting into you, each snap of his hips slamming the headboard into the wall behind you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunted, and this time his thrust went up at an angle, getting closer to that perfect spot. You moaned, thankful that this time he’d left your hands unbound, so you could rake your nails up his back or thread your fingers through his hair and hold on to him for dear life. Nevertheless, he kept one hand by your neck, loosely, just to remind you who was in control. Sam released the headboard and grasped the underside of your knee, hooking your right leg over his shoulder and opening you up even further.

Your back arched up and off of the bed as he managed to perfect his thrusts again and again. “Sam, I—I’m not gonna last much longer,  _oh_.”

He moved his hand to the side of your neck, cupping your jaw firmly. “You’ll come when I say so,” he said, his eyes dark and steely, filled with promises of punishment if you disobeyed. The stare sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself clenching around him accidentally, drawing a long groan out of him. He said your name warningly.

“I can’t help it, Sam, it’s—it’s too much. God, you feel so good inside me, baby—”

“Yeah?” He smirked down at you, and you found yourself looking at his canines, at how sharp they were in relation to the rest of his teeth. No wonder his bites felt so fierce, but they always had, even before he lost his soul. “Like the way I’m filling you up, huh?” he continued, leaning down to kiss your mouth. You moaned into the kiss as his tongue slipped in to meet yours. “Come on, baby, let go,” he crooned, letting his teeth graze your bottom lip as he spoke. “You can let go, now.”

And you did, crying out his name, your legs quivering while he continued to thrust into you, chasing his own climax. You felt so good you were sure you saw stars. Finally he came with a shout, his head falling to your shoulder as his hips lost their rhythm.

This wasn’t your Sam. This Sam was rough, greedy, impatient. Soulless. He never took the time to hold you afterward, never lavished you with praise like he used to. You missed _your_ Sam: the Sam who treated you like fine-blown glass, the Sam who traced your curves with his hands and took his time stripping you out of your clothes, the Sam who acted out of love and not just out of the primal need to make you his.

Still, if this was the only Sam you were going to have for a while, you were going to take what you could get.


End file.
